6.23am: Waking up in Hauz Khas Village, my new address. Looking out the window into the 13th century ruins. Ferozeshah’s tomb, the madrasa, the lake. Beyond - Deer Park. The trees laced with the morning mist. The rest of Delhi invisible. Read more

The celebrated Delhi-based author Khushwant Singh loves Pakistan, a nation often looked at with suspicion, and sometimes even with hatred, by a majority of Indians.

One winter evening in 2009 at a rare public appearance, the 94-year-old novelist, facing a select audience that included the Indian prime minister’s wife, said, “I wish more Indians realise that most Pakistanis are nice people.” Read more

The smoggy ITO crossing can hardly be mistaken for the breezy Mall Road of Mussoorie. But curiously, it is here that the natives of Kumaon and Garhwal presently residing in Delhi head for their music fix. All thanks to four rickety stalls specializing in Garhwali and Kumaoni music videos.

These stalls are a treasure-trove for Uttaranchali music lovers. Read more

Shahjahanabad was a city of emperors and courtesans, kaftans and the Kohinoor, beef and ghee. This morning I am searching for its past splendor. The ancient alleys of Matia Mahal bazaar, under the watchful eyes of Jama Masjid, are redolent of morning meals. Kesar-flavored milk. Sewai. Jalebis. Soon a rich, meaty aroma tempts me. Paya-nihari. But it is burra - Buffalo meat. (I don’t like burra meat.) A true nihari carries the upper thigh of a cow. In its absence, I will perhaps have to resort to goat instead. I continue walking. Read more

A 70-year-old shop is expected to wallow in its past. Yesterday must always be richer than today and tomorrow should be forever uncertain. If it’s a photo studio, the tragedy has to be weepier. After all, who needs to go to photo studios now? Read more

Her talk is hardly different than that of most grandmothers – all about ‘our days, your days’. “Call me narrow-minded, but today’s newspapers carry such vulgar ads,” says Santosh Puri, the director of Central News Agency, one of Delhi’s biggest and oldest companies that distribute Indian as well as foreign newspapers in the Capital. Her family owns it. Read more

9pm. Begona metro station. Walking down the stairs. Ticket counter. Waving at the lady behind the glass. We are friends. One euro for Chueca, Madrid’s Paharganj. Now running down the escalators. Turning right. A long corridor. Left. Escalators again. Platform. Four minutes for the next train. Sitting down on the floor. Reading Mansfield Park (bought from a bookstore in Callao; three euros). Read more

Unlike in the Delhi Metro, doors in the Madrid’s do not open automatically. You have to press the green button when the train stops at the station. Also, unlike us Delhiwallas, Madridis do not storm in like jungle beasts. Read more

This is the first time The Delhiwalla is going to Europe. Exciting. There is no direct flight from Delhi to Madrid. Great. This Finnair flight will first fly to Helsinki. Doubly exciting. I’m getting a window seat. Triple exciting. Read more

The high ceiling of this charming piano shop seems overwhelmed with the weight of history. Situated at the desolate end of the Regal Cinema building, A. Godin & Co. was established in Quetta in 1900. The founder Mr Celiano Godin, a 25-year-old who played both piano and violin, later opened branches in Bombay, Calcutta, Mussoorie, and Delhi. Read more